


What The Fuck, Waters?!

by Kissed_by_Circe



Series: Some Things Blossom In The Dark [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Best Friends, Beta Wanted, Fluff, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 15:51:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16140491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kissed_by_Circe/pseuds/Kissed_by_Circe
Summary: Six times Sansa Stark rejected a proposal, and the one time she didn’t.Joffrey “Baratheon” is ice-cold, Theon Greyjoy is kinda sarcastic, Harry Hardyng is shallow, Loras Tyrell is gay, his nephew Foss Tyrell is ~*cute*~, Gendry is confussing, and Jon Snow, as always, is oblivious af.





	What The Fuck, Waters?!

She can’t breathe. It’s all too much – the heavy gold choker that’s too tight for her liking and digs into her neck like a snake wrapped around her throat, the dozens of eyes staring at her expectantly, the ice and impatience in Joff’s eyes as he waits for her answer. His family, the waiters, the other patrons in this expensive restaurant, expect her to say ‘yes’ in some way or the other, and isn’t this what she always dreamed of?

 

Everything’s going along to plan, Joff is _perfect_ for her, he’s polite and has a good family and he’s going to be CEO of the family bank by the time he’s 25. She had hoped for him to propose to her, and she’d already planned the next steps in her life – their wedding, building a mansion on Visenya’s hill, enjoying a few years of married life and working on her career, then three children before they’re 30… she’d even planed her answer to his proposal after he asked for her ring size, because ‘yes, yes, hundred thousand times yes’ sounded so romantic.

 

But now he’s kneeling before her in an enormously _huge_ restaurant, and everyone’s starring at her and she’s starring at him and suddenly she’s no longer sure about their future. He can be so cruel sometimes, and what if he only becomes crueller? And she’ll have to sleep with him and bear his children…

 

She doesn’t make a choice, her body acts of its own. She only realises that she’s rejected him when she’s standing on the curb, waving for a taxi, and somehow, she feels so much lighter, not held down by the clunky, ugly diamond he wanted to slip on her finger, like she could float away any time.

 

* * *

 

“I’ll never find a girlfriend. I’ll end up on my own, a grumpy old man with too many cats.”

 

“Aw, poor Theon. Should we make a marriage pact? If I’m still single at 35, we get married, okay?”

 

“Wow, really? I pretend to be Snow and you offer me your hand in marriage, my lady?”

 

“Oh, fuck of, you idiot.”

 

* * *

 

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, and I want to spend my life with you. Will you marry me?” Harry’s voice is as soft and warm as his bed, she thinks while she slips out from under the covers and starts to gather her clothes. Sighing, she turns around, letting her gaze sweep over his nude body and then over the walls of his bohemian styled bedroom – polaroids taken in beautiful places, the surfboard next to the door of the walk-in-closet, trinkets from all over the world placed strategically on shelves filled with travel guide books.  

 

“You can’t be serious.”, she tells him quietly, and makes for the door. How could he be serious, after five weeks of casual dating, when he’s also seeing two other girls? But apparently, he is serious, because he jumps out of bed – still completely naked – and pulls a velvet box out from under his bed. “I _am_ serious, darling.” The pink diamond he presents her with is, she has to admit, rather pretty, but she gently closes the box nevertheless.

 

“You may be serious about this, Harry, but- I’m not. We don’t fit together, and I don’t think that we’d be happy together. I’m sorry, but no. I’m not going to marry you.” She turns around and reaches for the door handle. “But, Sans, we are such a pretty couple. Just think of how cute our children would be. And we’d have such a perfect life together, we’d travel the world, our insta would get even more followers, and you could sleep with whoever you want – an open marriage, that would be perfect for us-“ “I already said ‘no’, Harry, and that’s not how I picture my future. Good bye.”

 

She still follows his insta – he’s almost famous – and laughs when he posts pictures of a pink diamond on Alla Tyrell’s finger only months after their break-up.

 

* * *

 

“Marry me.”

 

“Chill, Loras, whose are only pancakes.”

 

“Yeah, but they’re _heavenly_. I’d marry you just for your baking skills, you know?”

 

“Yes, I know, and then you’d find a cute guy to cheat on me with. No, I’d rather end up single. Someone _has_ to take the position of the awesome aunt after all.”

 

* * *

 

She’s shocked to the bone, to say the least, but she has to admit that, of all the marriage proposals she received and witnessed over the years – at least 20 so far, her friends and family are quite busy getting engaged and married and having kids – this is one of the best she’s ever heard. The emotion, the words he uses to describe his love, the simple, yet beautiful silver band with those tiny raw sapphires, it’s all so very beautiful and Sansa – blurts out a shocked _“WHAT THE FUCK, WATERS?!”_

 

“That’s not the response I hoped for.”, he shrugs, and stands up from where he knelt on the floor, while she stares at him in utter confusion and disbelieve. “ _What the hell is wrong with you?!_ ” “Erm, nothing?” “Nothing? _You_ just asked _me_ to marry you! Are you drunk, or high, or whatever-” “Wait, wait, wait a moment – that was just a _rehearsal_. I’m going to propose to Arya. Did you really think that I’d date her for five years and then just propose to her sister?”

 

“Oh my god, _no_ , of course not-“ “Okay, great, because that’d be awkward.” “Yea, totally!“ “Would you like to be our maid-of-honour? You’re Arya’s sis _and_ my bestie, so it’d only be fitting.” “If she says ‘yes’, which she probably will, your proposal was wonderful, by the way, then… _yes_.”

 

* * *

 

“Will you marry me?”

 

“Oh, Foss, you’re just too cute, but you’re also much too young for me.”

 

“But you’ll gimme a kiss? Auntie Margaery gave her friend a kiss, when she asked that!”

 

“O- _oh_ , that’s- _well_ then you’ll get a kiss, and then we’ll find Auntie Margaery, and ask her about that, hm? Can’t believe she didn’t tell me she got _heckin_ _engaged_.”

 

* * *

 

“You know, you’re my third favourite person in all of the world.” “I know. You tell me every day.” She smiles at him over the kitchen-counter while they put away dishes and boxes after pizza night. Gendry and Arya had left a few minutes earlier, and silence sounded loud in their usually noisy terrace house in Pigrun Alley. “But maybe I won’t be your third favourite person forever.” Her voice is quiet and soft, and Jon wraps his arms around her waist gently.

 

“Arrana and Serena and you will be my three favourite people for as long as I life. Maybe even after that, in case I become a White Walker. And I thought- you’re the love of my life, and I want to spent the rest of my life with you. So, Sansa Lyarra Stark – will you marry me?”

 

15 years earlier she’d been asked this question for the first time, but over the course of the last few years she’d stopped thinking about weddings, or of herself ever getting married. What had she wanted to say all those years ago, when her first boyfriend had proposed to her? ‘Yes, yes, a hundred thousand times yes’? No, she won’t say that to Jon, who is so completely and utterly different and _a thousand times better_ than Joff and Harry and all the other guys she’s dated before him.

 

No, she doesn’t answer him, at least not with words. She just turns around and kisses him. “I’d love to. But- we’ll have to wait until for at least two years. Our girls will _die_ of impatience, though.” “ _Or_ we could marry in, like, half a year?” “Getting impatient, are we? That would be a good idea, theoretically, but I don’t think that I’ll be able to fit into a pretty white dress then.” His eyebrows rise higher and higher while his gaze flickers down to where her hand is resting on her stomach, still rather flat.

 

“Yes. _Yes._ I’m-”

 

He kisses her.


End file.
